


I Won't Say I'm In Love

by CountrygalxHetalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Disney Songs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountrygalxHetalia/pseuds/CountrygalxHetalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is rather reluctant at admitting his feelings towards a certain American and needs a little persuasion from a certain 'Bad Touch Trio'</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Say I'm In Love

“Angleterre, do be a dear and tell me where your pain killers are,” Francis moaned, dragging himself into the kitchen. The personification of England looked over his newspaper and cup of tea, He snorted at the sight of France. His blonde, usually luxurious, hair was a tangled mess and his crystal blue eyes were drooping and bloodshot.

“Well, aren’t you just the picture of perfection this morning. In the cupboard to your left,” Arthur told him, unable to resist the chance to tease the French nation. Arthur’d had to drive out last night to pick up the BTT from the bar they were at after a very drunken phone call from Francis. He figured that Matthew had dropped the men off, but wasn’t coming back to get them. 

He didn’t know what had compelled him to leave the warmth of his house at 2a.m., but he did. England had shoved the three men into the backseat of his car, praying to everything that was good and holy that they didn’t throw up on the way. He drove back to his house, too tired and irritated to drive all the way to one of their houses.

He helped them inside and shoved them into one of his spare bedrooms. He couldn’t believe that he had actually gone and gotten the three idiots. He figured he was going to start regretting his decision real soon.

As Arthur watched Francis fumbled around for the aspirin, his cell phone buzzed. He looked down and saw Alfred had texted him. **Hey!! Can I come over?! Got an awesome new game!!** He smiled a little, Alfred got excited over the silliest of things. Little did he know, Francis was watching him through his hung-over state, taking in every detail of his old friend’s face.

“I ‘aven’t seen you smile like zat in a long time Angleterre. Is it Alfred?” the Frenchman asked as he swallowed the little pills in his hand. Arthur’s head snapped up, blushing as he realized he’d been caught. He opened his mouth to retort, but two more very hung-over men stumbled into the kitchen.

“Vhy does my head feel like a puddle of unawesome goo, und more importantly, vhy are ve in Lord Eyebrow’s house?” Gilbert asked, tripping over his own feet and running into Francis.

“Dear Francis called last night and I was too tired to take you elsewhere,” Arthur said, drinking his tea to try to fight the oncoming headache. He watched as Antonio and the former nation of Prussia swallowed their own pain killers. “I also made coffee if you would like some,” he told the nations, taking some pity on them and nodding towards the coffee maker.

After they all some caffeine and aspirin in their systems, they settled down around kitchen table. Francis, though, realized that if he didn’t make breakfast, Arthur would try making some of his god-awful scones. He jumped up and rushed into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for simple omelets. 

“Oi, what are you doing you prat!?” Arthur called, turning to try and watch the Frenchman ransack his refrigerator.

“I am making breakfast before you can kill us wiz your cooking,” he replied loudly. Arthur rolled his eyes and grumbled a bit but let Francis continue cooking. The three men listened as eggs bubbled and sizzled before Arthur broke the comfortable silence.

“I’ll give you wankers and hour and a half to get cleaned up and out of my house, understood?” the Brit said, setting his teacup down.

“Aw, but why Arthur? Don’t you enjoy our company?” Antonio said, giving him a goofy grin. Arthur sniffed and leaned back in his chair.

“As much as any sane person can,” he said. Francis laughed as he flipped eggs in the kitchen. The smell wafting into the dining room was making all the nations mouths water.

“You know you love us Angleterre,” he said. This time Arthur chuckled, shaking his hand. “So, why do you want us to leave so soon, hm?” Francis inquired, walking out of the kitchen with four plates balanced expertly on his arms. Arthur tried to contain the blush that was threatening to flood his cheeks.

“That is for me to know and you to find out, you ponce,” he replied, taking his plate from Francis and grudgingly thanking him. The two others replied with ‘Danke’ and ‘Gracias’.

“Oh trust me eyebrows, ve vill,” Gilbert said, giving the Brit an almost feral grin. Arthur shivered, praying for the next hour and a half to pass by quickly.

Arthur continued talking to America through text massage and read while the three other nations took showers and cleaned themselves up. An hour later, after much loud, obnoxious singing and thick, stuffy, rose-scented presume, all three men were clean and ready to face the day.

As Arthur watched the men appear, primped and preened, he sighed and turned his attention back to his phone. These idiots needed to get out so Alfred could get his arse over to his house. The Englishman didn’t know why, but he rather enjoyed spending time with the American. Even if the nation was loud and obnoxious and crazy and silly and funny and caring. He didn’t love Alfred though, oh goodness no! He simply enjoyed spending time with him. That’s what he’d been telling himself for the last few centuries, and he actually believed his own BS.

He closed his phone and set it on his end table, which might not have been the best idea, and reopened his book. He sighed somewhat sadly and Francis definitely took notice.

“Angleterre, why are you so sad?” the French nation asked, motioning for Gilbert and Antonio to go around and snatch the gentleman’s phone. Arthur looked up and managed to roll his eyes.

“For one, I don’t know why you think I’m upset, I’m not. And two, even if I was, why would I ever tell you,” he replied somewhat snidely, still failing to notice the two men circling around him. Francis pretended to pout.

“But Arzur, you cannot fool me! You ‘ave been sighing all day, you are quite easy to read when you don’t keep your stupid wall up all ze time. Per’aps I could ‘elp. What is wrong in your love life dear friend?” he asked, knowing full well what was making his long time frienemy so depressed. He watched the Englishman’s eyes widened and a blush rush to his cheeks.

“Here Frenchie!” Antonio said before Arthur could reply, tossing his cell phone to Francis. The Bad Touch Trio all grinned as Gilbert and Antonio held Arthur down while Francis flipped though the messages.

“So, it is dear Amérique! I knew it! Arzur why don’t you just admit zat you love ‘im?!” Arthur glared furiously at the three men, before slumping in defeat and shaking his head.

_If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I’ve already won that. No man is worth the aggravation. That’s ancient history, been there, done that!_

Arthur’s voice surprised the men, but they caught on almost immediately. Arthur sighed as he was released and allowed to stand up. He made sure to snatch his phone from Francis as well.

_Who’d you think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden. Honey, we can see right through you. (Oh no) Boy, ya can’t conceal it. We know how ya feel and who you’re thinking of._

Francis, Gilbert and Antonio sang back, following after Arthur around the room. They’d definitely noticed the way the Englishman acted around Alfred, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. They weren’t not about to let Arthur know about it either!

_No chance, no way. I won’t say it, no, no! (You swoon, you sigh, why deny it, uh-oh) It’s too cliché. I won’t say I’m in love._

Arthur shook his head, arguing with the three stubborn nations. This was so stupid, why were they pushing this subject?! He tried waving them off as he walked into his library just to try to distract himself. They weren’t relenting that easily though, so he turned on them.

_I thought my heart had learned its lesson. It feels so good when you start out. My head is screaming get a grip boy! Unless your dying to cry your heart out! Oh!_

A hundred different images flashed through Arthur’s head. Alfred as a little boy, still a young and blooming nation, clinging to the Englishman’s leg. America grown up into a young man, standing on the battle field with his musket aimed at Arthur while he dropped to his knees. Alfred now, happy and without a care in the world, love and eternal sunshine sparkling in his too blue eyes. He was pulled out his thoughts by extremely off-key singing.

_You keep on denying who you are and how you’re feeling. Baby we’re not buying. Hun, we saw ya hit the ceiling. (oh no) Face it like a grown up. When ya gonna own up; that ya got, got, got it bad!_

Arthur stuck his tongue out childishly, trying to ignore the nations singing at him. He didn’t want to it admit it!! He couldn’t! If he loved Alfred… no! He didn’t love Alfred. Besides, even if he did, it’s not like that young nation would reciprocate the feeling. He shook his head checking his phone again. Alfred had messaged him. **On my way dude!!**

_Whoa. No chance, no way! I won’t say it no, no! (Give up or give in. Check the grin you’re in love) This scene won’t play, I won’t say I’m in love!_

Arthur forced the small smile on his face into a scowl without too much effort. Francis laughed as the Brit started pushing them towards his backdoor.

_You’re doing flips. Read our lips. You’re in love!_

Arthur started to panic as he listened to a car pull up in his driveway. There was no he had been doing the speed limit to get here that fast. The three idiots leaned into the house to keep from being pushed out. 

“Come on Artie!” Gilbert pressed. Antonio nodded in agreement. “Admit it!”

_You’re way off base, I won’t say it! (He won’t say it no!) Get off my case. I won’t say it!_

The Prussian and Spaniard huffed, rolled their eyes and tripped out the backdoor. Francis, however, stood for a moment before pulling his friend into a hug before he could object.

_Boy, don’t be proud. It’s okay you’re in love._

The Frenchman pulled away and kissed Arthur’s forehead. He pulled out a rose and placed it in the Brit’s deceivingly delicate looking hands.

“Admit it Arzur, and tell dear Alfred 'ow you feel. For ze boz of your sakes,” he said simply and hurried out the door, following his friends. Arthur stared bewildered after the Frenchman before turning to his front door. Alfred was banging loudly on the poor oak.

“I’m coming you prat! Hang on a bloody minute!” he yelled. There was a loud huff but the loud knocking thankfully ceased. Arthur walked to the door, setting the rose on a side table, and looked down at his feet as he gripped the doorknob.

_Oh, at least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love._

He whispered the last part to himself before opening the door. Alfred was standing before him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Texas was askew on his nose and his blue eyes glittered with happiness. His hair was shining in the bright, unfrequent sunshine. He had his stunning, mega-watt smile on his face.

“Hey Iggy!!” he said loudly, grabbing Arthur and pulling him into a huge, bone-crushing hug. Arthur struggled, trying to release one of his arms to hit the American in the back of the head. Even though he tried getting loose, he relished the feeling of Alfred holding him so close.

“Don’t call me that, git!” he said, quickly losing oxygen to his lungs. Alfred set him down with a breathy laugh and walked into the house. Arthur was trying desperately not to blush in front of his former colony. He watched as Alfred messed around with a game system below his television. He had no need for such useless things, but when Alfred decided to visit, he insisted on having something to play.

“Dude! I can’t wait for you to see this game!! Japan sent it over for a test run and I can’t wait!!” Alfred said, pulling a video game out of his back pocket and putting in the system. Arthur rolled his eyes as he sat down in his arm chair. He watched as America finished plugging everything up and turned it on. He took in his sunshine hair streaked with different shades of gold, wishing he could run his fingers through it. He looked at his sky blue eyes, smiling and practically glowing with happiness. Arthur let his emerald gaze roam, not realizing Alfred had turn to look at him.

“Like whatcha see?” he asked, smirking at his former keeper. This time, Arthur couldn’t contain the crimson that washed across his face. He felt his heart clench painfully and he hung it head. The shaggy mess of blonde hair hid his face as he shook his head and stood up quickly, making his way out of the living room to his own room. Alfred quirked an eyebrow. What the heck was up with him? He stood up, dropping his game controller, and followed the Brit.

He found Arthur sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He was shaking slightly and rocking back and forth carefully. Alfred rushed over worried about the older nation. He knelt down in front of the Englishman and laid a hand on his knee.

“Arthur,” he said softly, taking his voice down a notch. England peeked at him through his fingers, quickly shutting his eyes again. “Come on Artie,” Alfred coaxed, grabbing Arthur’s wrists in his large, calloused hands. He tugged gently, prying them away from his pale face. He was shocked to see clear, beautiful tears trailing down the man’s face.

“Alfred,” Arthur choked. The American quickly stood up and sat down next to Arthur on the bed. He pulled him into a hug, wrapping his muscular arms around the Brit’s thin form. Arthur tensed for a moment before relaxing to the hold.

“Artie, what’s wrong?” Alfred asked, rubbing circles on the nation’s back. Arthur choked back a laugh.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he mumbled into the American’s chest. Alfred pushed him away gently and cupped his cheek. He wiped at the tears with his thumb.

“Try me,” he whispered. His too blue eyes sparkled with care and concern, something Arthur rarely ever saw directed at him. He so wished that the young nation felt the same, that he returned the love that Arthur felt. He looked down, staring at his shaking fingers.

“I… I love you,” he muttered, only half realizing what he was admitting. He opened his mouth to tell Alfred that he knew the younger nation didn’t feel the same and that it was okay and… he didn’t get the chance though. A hand lifted his face and warm, full lips were pressed against his thin, cool ones. His green eyes widened in surprise and then closed once he finally realized what was going on. He snaked his arms around Alfred’s neck, kissing back uncertainly. Alfred pulled back, resting his forehead against the Englishman’s.

“You stubborn old man. You really are thick, you know that?” he told him. He grinned as Arthur rolled his eyes. “I love you too Artie. I always have and always will.” He smiled and kissed Arthur’s nose.

“So,” the Brit started, smiling tenderly, “no video games?” he asked. The aching in his heart was gone and left him all warm and fluttery inside. Alfred smirked and kissed him again.

“Nah. I’ve got somethin’ a lot better right here!”


End file.
